


never even made toast!

by embraidery



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Pre-Relationship, Sleepy Gals, Stargazing, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26045449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embraidery/pseuds/embraidery
Summary: A scene from Amanda's life in Wendimoor post-season 2; a nice sleepy moment on Litzibitz's balcony.
Relationships: Amanda Brotzman/Litzibitz Trost
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	never even made toast!

**Author's Note:**

> this is sort of a deleted scene from my big bang fic about these two, but no prior knowledge is required! Enjoy :) 
> 
> *rated teen for Amanda's blue language

They often spent time in Litzibitz’s rooms, doors thrown open to let soft, floral breezes blow in over the balcony. Litzibitz would bring her sewing projects out to the main room and work on them on the floor, tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth. Amanda loved to spend time going through Litzibitz’s library. It had been so long since Amanda’d sunk her teeth into a good book. She’d gotten into the rut of scrolling through social media while stuck at home with pararibulitis, and after so many years it wasn’t easy to climb out of that deep ditch. One night, shortly after joining the Rowdy Three, Martin caught her mindlessly scrolling Tumblr. With her permission, he deleted all her socials, and that was that. Turned out quitting things cold turkey kind of  _ worked  _ for Amanda, at least when she spent all her time riding around in a van with four strange men.

Anyway. 

Amanda picked out a thick book about a woman going on an adventure and settled into one of Litzibitz’s massive leather armchairs. She spent some time just running her fingers over the thick seams between the pieces of leather. Then she draped her legs over the side of the chair, because gays can’t sit right, and got stuck into the book. It was hours later when Litzibitz stretched, yawned, and said she was going to go to bed. Amanda’s mind swam as she was yanked from the warm book bubble. 

“Okay, g’night,” she said, running her hands over her hair. She made a mental note to refresh her undercut soon.

“G’night,” Litzibitz returned, blowing Amanda a kiss. She turned and shuffled into the adjoining bedroom. The lights shut off a few minutes later.

Amanda tried to get back into the book, but it didn’t take: the spell was broken. She set it aside. She went out onto Litzibitz’s balcony and leaned on the railing, taking in the sights. God, Wendimoor was beautiful. It wasn’t that Seattle was ugly or anything, far from it, but Amanda had grown up with it, and its shine had worn out like color from Amanda’s chucks. 

Amanda sat in one of the white wicker balcony chairs. It was a chilly night, the kind where she and the Rowdies would build a bonfire and sit on top of the van. It would have been warmer to sit on the ground next to the fire, of course, but it was so much cooler to perch up high like vengeful birds, so they did. They’d pass around a joint and see who could capture the most stars in their smoke rings. Sometimes Amanda could get them to make up cooler constellations and stories to match. Vogel’s were her favorite, but Gripps had some excellent runners-up hiding in his heart of gold.

She sat out there long enough to see a shower of shooting stars. That, too, brought back memories: the one time her parents had taken Amanda and Todd to see some shooting stars, before the kids’ complaints of the cold and dark and late night convinced their parents never to try it again. Hindsight painted that night with a rosy brush: a thermos of hot chocolate with mini marshmallows, sleepy kids puddled in the backseat with their blankets, meteorites blurry behind eyes Amanda rubbed with tiny fists. 

Amanda got lost in memories and time. She came to when Litzibitz came out onto the balcony. The princess was wearing a silk dressing gown that matched her hair and holding a terra cotta mug that sent clouds of steam up into the chilly air.

“Here, have some tea,” Litzibitz murmured, voice softened with sleep, eyes only half open. She passed Amanda the mug and sat in the other wicker chair.

Faced with multiple things she could say, Amanda settled for, “I thought you were asleep.”

“I was.” Litzibitz yawned and ran her hands through her hair, leaving it a cowlicked mess. “Saw you were up, thought you could use…” She trailed off and yawned again. “Mmm.” Litzibitz waved one sleepy hand through the air.

Amanda chuckled. “Thanks.” She curled her fingers around the mug, appreciating its gentle warmth soaking through to the delicate bones of her hand. Judging from the amount of steam, it was still too hot to drink, so she just watched Litzibitz. She was curled up into the back of the chair, eyes closed, looking tiny and bird-boned in the voluminous dressing gown.

“You didn’t make yourself tea?” Amanda asked. She carefully lowered her nose to the rim of the mug and sniffed. It smelled like rose and a spice she didn’t know the name of. 

“Mmm, no, didn’t think of that.” Litzibitz’s eyebrows drew together over her still-closed eyes. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“I guess you’re just really selfless.” 

“Yes, I’m the selfless queen.” 

“What does that mean?” she asked Litzibitz.

“Selfless queen? Dunno, was just agreeing.” Litzibitz paused for long enough that Amanda nearly spoke, but she piped up: “I’m the baby sister, Panto’s the real selfless one.”

“I’ll have to tell him you said that.”

“‘M sure he knows.” Litzibitz yawned. “One time he helped me steal pastries from the kitchen. The cooks were about to find me, so he jumped out and distracted them while I escaped.”

Amanda leaned forward to take a sip of her drink.

It was terrible.

“Holy  _ shit, _ Zizi, this is terrible!”

Litzibitz opened her eyes. “Was your first time making tea not terrible?”

“You’ve never made tea before?” Amanda sputtered.

“‘M a princess,” Litzibitz sighed, closing her eyes again. “People make my tea for me. I’ve never even made...toast. I’ve never made toast, Amanda.”

“You’ve never gone down to the kitchen and made yourself a midnight snack?!” Amanda used to love making herself cinnamon sugar toast in the middle of the night.

“Nope...I just take leftovers.” Litzibitz shrugged against the back of the chair. 

“You’ve never boiled yourself an egg?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Made pasta?”

“Mm-mm.”

“Have you ever…” Amanda searched her mental database for easy food. “...peeled an orange?”

“Now that I  _ have  _ done.”

“Well, good!”

“If it’s so terrible, I’ll drink the rest.” Litzibitz reached out with both hands, eyes half-closed, and accepted the mug as Amanda handed it over. Litzibitz lifted the mug to her lips and took a sip.

“Oh, gross!”

“See?!” Amanda exclaimed.

“I thought tea was going to be easy,” Litzibitz said glumly, looking into the mug. “It always looked so easy.”

“Tomorrow we’re going to go down to the kitchens and have them show you how to make tea,” Amanda declared. “You need some basic fuckin life skills!”

“Hey! That’s not fair. I know how to use scissors, and ride a horse, and…” Litzibitz yawned. “Dunno, bale hay? Do  _ you  _ know how to bale hay?”

“I don’t,” Amanda admitted.

“So there.” Litzibitz said. “Good golly gosh, I wish I could stop yawning!” She shoved her fist in her mouth as she began to yawn again.

“Shit, dude, go back to sleep,” Amanda said, taking the mug from Litzibitz. “I’m fine out here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Amanda made a little shooing motion at Litzibitz with her free hand that Litzibitz didn’t see.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry the tea was bad.”

“That’s okay. It was very nice of you to make it.” Amanda held out a hand. When Litzibitz accepted it, Amanda gently pulled her to her feet and pushed her towards the bedroom door.

“‘Night!” Litzibitz called over her shoulder.

“G’night!” Amanda called back. She couldn’t help but smile as she watched Litzibitz shuffle away. She picked up the mug, sitting innocently on the railing, and dumped the tea onto the rose bushes below. 


End file.
